About this book (blog)

Following my bout with brain cancer, I reflected on my past.  In this book (blog), I tried to weave inspiring and enjoyable stories to create a helpful approach towards living a balanced life.  At times, it was me or others who lost and regained balance.  Thus, I hope that each anecdote allows the reader to see life and love in an uplifting way.

Dedication

To the many courageous past and present 

authors and artists who have shined 

their inspiring light in my direction.

Acknowledgments

I sincerely thank those whose stories I was fortunate to witness and share. Friends, family, strangers, and others — without “you,” my words would be empty. With “you,” my words have meaning and are filled with the many gifts you have given.

I also must thank my first editor, Seba Fuller, in addition to all those who purchased, read, and shared feedback on the early versions of this work. Without your support, this book might just be series of thoughts and feelings floating between my head and heart.

All thanks to our Creator, who makes these moments possible.

Moving Forward

This feels kind of odd, because each morning for the last five years, I’ve written about how one can make efforts to live a “balanced life.” Yet for the last six weeks, I have not written in the mornings because I’ve “lost my balance.”

One morning, I woke up, and I could only move forwards. If I attempted to go backwards, I was totally thrown off. Everything was spinning. I soon went to an emergency room, and they said it was “vertigo,” gave me a pill, and sent me to a specialist who shifted me around and said, “It will go away.” A few days later, I could not do anything to my left, let alone find the clarity to do my morning routine of yoga, meditation, and writing.

At this point, something told me to visit a different emergency room, so (moving only forward and right) I went to Lenox Hill Hospital. I got there and spent most of that Friday getting MRIs, scans, and tests. At the end of the day, a pleasant, intelligent surgeon stood at my bedside. He showed me images and explained that they had found a brain tumor, and it needed to be removed as soon as possible because it was so close to my brain stem. Urgency mounted. So Sunday morning it was, and by that evening, the surgery was done, and I awoke.

After surgery, I was moved to the intensive care unit, where all sorts of wires and tubes were protruding from my body, arms, and head, in addition to the incision that went from my neck to the middle of my head. I could not hold food down for days and could barely move or sleep. All I could do was lie in bed and breathe. Yet, breathing on my own felt like such a blessing, knowing so many others needed a machine to breathe. Meditating and praying became somewhat difficult, due to the fact that I was on heavy painkillers and had a hard time getting a hold of my mind. Still, I found the strength to laugh, thinking, “I don’t stop working, do I? Because this seems like a pretty good time to test one of my many theories on regaining one’s balance.”

I think a question that runs constantly through the minds of people who get cancer is “Where did I go wrong?” In truth, it’s hard to pinpoint how anyone gets cancer, and I can only speak for myself, as my doctors and surgeons often drew the conclusion that my (cancerous) brain tumor probably developed at a very early age in my life. This explains why it is so rare for someone my age to develop this type of brain tumor. So, maybe instead of asking, “What did I do wrong?” I should ask, “What did I do right?” What did I do right to be living with cancer for, quite possibly, most of my life and not feel any of the effects of it until recently? Nobody seems to have the answer as to why cancer happens, and questions will continue to arise.

One question I will never forget is one I asked when I was researching this book years ago. I asked many top cancer specialists, “Is it possible for a cancer cell to live in an environment consisting solely of oxygen?” The answer was unanimously “No.” So I will draw the conclusion myself. If one increases his or her flow of oxygen, he or she can decrease the chance of cancer.

Next question: What increases the flow of oxygen? There seems to be countless things that can increase the flow of oxygen, yet the one answer I always end up with is love. It is love that makes friends, family, and even strangers reach out to help each other. I believe it is “love” that keeps me “Moving Forward.”

Degrees of Living

Every morning, I rise and feel that each day is a “gift,” a gift I have no choice but to share. It seems like it has been 40 years of trial and error for me, and any knowledge and/or wisdom I do have comes from these experiences of seeing myself and others lose and regain balance. If I’m given just a second more or sixty years, I shall continue to grow with my eventful education.

After what has gone on during the last year, I wonder what my capabilities still are. Lately, it has been hard to know, because I seem to be dealing with a new side effect each day, and that’s my latest line of work. But I still sit here thinking, “I need a job.” I ask myself, “In what direction shall I go? What kind of experience do I have? What education or degrees do I carry?” Part of me feels as if I have been in school and doing internships my whole life. Looking back, these experiences were my real “education,” as I took test after test to reach some kind of “degree.” Well, if this is the case, perhaps my schooling has allowed me to acquire the following.

I might say I have a “love degree.” I got this degree with a lifetime internship of falling in love with people, art, nature, humanity, and all creations. One skill that I did acquire throughout my studies and struggles has been the ability to find happiness, not only on the outside but through what I felt inside. This happiness came without conditions. It didn’t matter if I had money or not, a lover or not, and so on. I was just happy to be working toward my “degree.”

I have a “family degree” as a son, brother, nephew, cousin, and uncle. I also have a major in being a single father and minors in healing from a broken marriage engagement and years of “baby mama drama.” I have dealt with some family conflicts and witnessed a 35-year marriage end in divorce. I learned some valuable lessons from two wonderful parents. They cared for me from the day I arrived, and I cared for them on the days before they left.

Another degree I have is a “friendship degree.” Many times, I walked into the lives and homes of others, hearing the stories of a variety of people. They may have been sick, healthy, rich, poor, hate-filled, love-filled, young, old, or famous. I have witnessed people turn to addictions, some able to recover, while others took a different direction. As for my past homes, or shall I say “dorm rooms” in this analogy, I’ve had a large variety of roommates. Some were business people, artists, frat boys, athletes, people who were divorced seven times, people afraid to get into just one relationship, people with families, people without anyone, some desperately searching for love, and others who have all the love they need.

Hey, wait second! I did get one of those “school degrees.” I studied in Los Angles, London, and finished at NYU. But these “school degrees” did not come easily for me, because my whole life, I have had a “learning disability/dyslexia.” But I refused to let this stop me from getting an education. I went on to make some films, documentaries, television commercials, videos, and I also wrote a few screenplays and a book or two.

I’ve also acquired an “employment degree.” Along the way, I picked up a few jobs to support myself. To name a few, I spent four years as a janitor, six months as a bike messenger, two years as a store manger, four years working in bars and restaurants, two years as a photo investigator, two years as a hustler (majoring in crime and dishonesty), three months restoring pianos, seven years as a carpenter, and seven years as a street vendor. For 10 years, I was a video director, spending evenings in front of 20,000 people, meeting energetic fans, well-known entertainers, powerful politicians, and successful business people. I also had a job running art studios, arranging exhibits, and managing a storefront gallery. But the longest job I had and still have is as an artist, laboring with and loving photography, painting, and writing.

How does “society degree” sound? I guess that term will work for now. My education kind of started with an 18-year internship in being an Italian kid growing up in a town where, for the most part, one was either Jewish or African American. Over the years, I have seen a society that keeps changing. It used to take time in order to communicate to a person of choice, but now we have the technology to reach whomever you want in a split second. I’ve witnessed a time when we had very few computers and no digital media to current times and a world full of these things. I have seen the birth and development of hip-hop culture and its effect on our society. I have also seen a fearful society. I experienced the aftermath of living just a few blocks away from bombs in the London Underground, the riots in Los Angeles, and the World Trade Center attacks in New York City.

I might phrase another degree I have as a “community degree.” I have seen New York City’s youth grow up in public schools, community centers, parks, housing projects, group homes, or just on my block. Speaking of my block, I have seen my Harlem neighborhood go from crack houses to health food stores to corporate developments. I have also found homes for neighborhood stray dogs, as well as rescuing and raising my own. And for four years, I’ve seen society in an inner-city children’s hospital I visited each week.

I could not have done any of this without a “health degree.” I’ve studied and practiced different philosophies of healthy living. I’ve had a wide range of majors and minors. Some are cooking, and some are understanding both the physical and mental sides of various activities like yoga, basketball, and many others. I got these “degrees” because I wanted to maintain a healthy and happy life.

I guess I must also add that I have a degree as a “cancer survivor,” a challenge that has blessed me with the daily opportunity to better understand my mind, body, and spirit in ways I never imagined.

So, perhaps the above equals one “degree.” It is just a “degree in living.” It is the same degree we all have, but with different majors. Looking back at my own majors and minors, whether I passed or failed was not always important. What I learned was more important and how I used it in the next courses I took.

What is my next course? Or job? And what industry might I be going in to? It feels like I’m heading toward the “service industry.” But who am I serving? And what am I working towards?

I suppose I will be serving anyone who is willing to read what I have written or maybe even anyone who might be willing to test one of my theories. As for what I’m working towards? If I or anyone else ever gets there, we can call it a “master’s degree of life.”

The Tool of Vision

Thus far, each of the “degrees of living” that I worked towards tested my honesty, decision-making, and my ability to change. These little confrontations seem to be similar to the occurrences of others, yet many feel they have failed, while others feel they have passed with flying colors. Some people in my life have been the teachers, and many have been fellow students. Regardless of who was taking the tests, one common denominator has always seemed to surface. Most of this lies in our ability to see (S.E.E.). Our vision is the most powerful tool we can utilize to learn from all of life’s little tests and confrontations.

I often ask myself, “How should I handle these little tests? (A) Grade or judge them and say I passed or I failed, or (B) Share what I have learned in hopes of making the next test easier to take. I think I will choose “B” and do my best to share my approaches toward using our “tool of vision.”

I am not sure of the exact situation, but I started to look at vision like a tool. I saw this “tool of vision” to be no different than any other tool that makes our lives easier and more efficient. The better shape this tool is in, the more enhanced our ability to see is (S.E.E.). Some seem to be masters with it, while others need to repair, sharpen, and clean their tools to ensure that they are in proper working order.

S.E.E.

My goal is to see myself and others living a healthier, happier life. On the road to this goal, I feel it is important to both focus and broaden our definitions of three main areas that strengthen our vision — “sleep,” “eat,” and “exercise,” equaling S.E.E.

Sleeping is the energy your mind, body, and spirit rest.

Eating is the energy your body, mind, and spirit receive.

Exercising is the energy your body, mind, and spirit gives.

So, to access my own tool of vision, I had to come up with a plan to ask myself the right questions in order to understand the energy I was resting, receiving, and giving. I call them the Eighteen Elements of Vision.

-------------SLEEP,EAT,EXERCISE --- MIND,BODY,SPIRIT-------------- Who,What,Where,When,Why & How --- See,Hear,Smell,Taste,Touch & Sixth Sense.

From this list, I was able to cross-reference any of the elements and create a question that would give me better awareness on states of happiness or suffering in my past, present, or future directions. I would usually start with understanding the energy and grouping it into the basic elements of Sleep (resting energy), Eat (receiving energy), or Exercise (giving energy). Then, I could go into further detail as to which of my senses was affected. This might seem to be an overly analytical process, but often, to grasp what causes our happiness and sufferings, it takes this kind of self-reflection. As a result, our realizations will sharpen our vision and our ability to be reasonable with our future circumstances.

S leeping — Resting Energy

Nature supplies everything with a quantity of energy. The amazing thing about the human species is that we have the ability to take the energy we are given and change its quality. As a result, with the healthy cultivation of this energy, we feel as if we have more energy. Perhaps the truth is we only changed the quality of this energy, not the quantity. Resting, recharging, and rejuvenating energy seems to have the power to change its quality. The power of this transformation starts with knowing when this time comes.

After and during the time my mom was letting go of her mind and body, I clearly felt the need to exercise. And I did, although this time, I no longer had a studio or at least a studio with a roof on top. But this was fine, like any other studio I occupied. I first looked to see if I had daylight in which to work. Now my studio was the streets of New York City, and there was plenty of light and an abundance of dense energy inside me and surrounding me. So I got it all out of my system once again for the next two or three years by painting the iron circles and surfaces in this city “that never sleeps.” From one manhole cover to the next, until each ounce of pain dissipated into the already restless pulse of the streets. I truly did not start really resting my energy until I parted ways with my job of 10 years at Madison Square Garden. It was then that I soon realized it was time to sleep on the process of taking in energy, whether it was the twenty-thousand people I worked with and was in front of each night or the one person inside of myself. These days of rest consisted of trying to sell all I had created in the past few years, seeing my daughter off to school, and picking her up on any day I was asked or allowed to. I would take odd jobs, and with every ounce of energy left over, I did my best to get to a place where I could rest and write what you read today.

My word seemed like a good place to start in transforming what surfaced as I rested. Although, at times, I saw my word like the battery supplied on a cell phone. Talk-time used up more energy. Even though sometimes talk can charge you up, the power lies in choosing who, what, where, when, why, and how much we talk. The first question I asked myself was “Who do I talk to?” The answer, at the time, was to pen and paper.

At first, it took some time to rest the reactive energy I possessed. Thus, I often found it a priority to allow the essence of myself to remain still. Sometimes, this took suspending all of my judgments and definitions of success. Though I was “resting,” I worked at finding the “now” not by searching for it, but rather allowing my mind to arrive at a state where the “now” naturally surfaces. With this, I was often given the efficient ability to improve the quality of my energy.

E ating - Receiving Energy

I used to think of “eating” as only food that entered my stomach, but now I see it as any form of energy that comes through my senses. Our choices of what to eat are essential to our ability to use our “tool of vision.” For example, in terms of edible food, we might eat a particular food and experience the affects of it seconds or hours later. Or it might have an effect that could trigger us to decide that we absolutely do not want to eat this food again for the rest of our lives. Or we might crave it every day.

If we broaden our perspectives of eating, we might realize that, from the moment we rise in the morning, we start eating. We eat the temperature of the room and how the daylight makes us feel. We can eat all kinds of things. We consume the energy of our kids waking up nervously from a bad dream or our anxiety about starting a day at work. Maybe we eat the fact that we might be single and longing for a partner to wake up next to or wondering how to fix our troubled relationships. As a result, we can still be digesting the energy we consumed yesterday, in the past month, and so on. Many of these experiences can alter so much, including our health.

Anyone who knew my dad even vaguely knew that he loved to eat. Outside of his eggs, toast, soup, and big Italian meals, what else did he love to eat? It was all the kinds of energy, be it music, traveling, church, the courtroom, nature, his family, or friends. His menu went on and on. I think most of all he enjoyed the process of eating and being in the company of the people surrounding him at the above dinner tables. Sometimes, it seemed that no one could stop him from eating all of the above energy or even just his lunch. (I can only reflect on and laugh at the times when I was a young kid sitting in the back of the courtroom, watching my dad argue a decisive civil case and asking the judge if he could approach the bench. He argued his case as to why he needed to have his lunch at this very moment, which ironically was usually granted, so even the law could not stop him.)

Most outcomes of his eating were positive because of his pure motivation toward the happiness of others, as well as himself. Some might have noticed that my dad would sometimes overeat. When I look at one of my dad’s overeating habits, I formulate the hypothesis that perhaps he failed when it came to respecting the power of the sun. As he consumed its energy, any moment. Often, it was at its strongest for hours, year after year, until the year came when he saw and felt the affects of his unbalanced consumption. He developed skin cancer. And then the day came where he could not eat any longer, and his mind and body moved on.

That was just one effect of his choice of eating. Another affect was my dad’s hunger for life, and as a result, this eating habit has been instilled in so many that he left behind. How did my dad digest and work out all of his energy? It was often with his tools to communicate, mostly his voice, a voice that inspired me to write and a voice that always told me:

“Nothing gets to the intellect that doesn’t go through the senses.”

E xercising - Giving Energy

Many people think of exercising as working out. This is not far off because, throughout our days and lives, we are constantly taking in energy, and a lot of times, we have to find a way to work it out so we can feel more at peace.

I remember a time when I was up late one night in my “non-living” art studio that I lived in. It was a raggedy old place, but it met my needs for an art studio. As far as living was concerned, it was a stretch. It was a stretch to the studio across the hall to use the toilet and sink. It was a stretch of a few blocks so I could shower at the gym. Outside of the living obstacles, the one-hundred-year-old room felt like the right place for me. I needed a place to put out all of the energy I had taken in. For example, in the months before this late night, my dad died of cancer, followed by my daughter’s mother breaking off our engagement and my being forced to move out, in addition to all of the other trivial dramas thirty-year-old men face. So I just needed a safe place to put my love and pain, and this studio and my art ended up being this place.

For months, I would use the materials I discovered for my photographs, and I sculpted a frame for each photo. I exercised using wood, plaster, iron, paint, glue, glass, aluminum, vinyl, rubber, tar, and all that I got my hands on, until this night came. I took a deep breath as I stroked my dog's head and looked around the studio. My job was done, and the work was completed. Although I felt somewhat helpless and empty, maybe this feeling was what I was aiming for if I were to get the energy out of my system. As I attempted to sleep on the beat up old brown couch, my little voice or “sixth sense” said, “Photograph the work… now.” I listened and stayed up until sunrise with an unknown urgency, taking shot after shot, leaving just a few shots left in the roll.

I thought, “Now I can rest without an ounce of energy left in me.” I dropped back on the couch. A moment of silence passed and then Luke, my dog, rushed to the window as a thunderous roar was heard. I darted towards the window, looked out, and there was a huge hole in the building just a few blocks away from my studio. I was speechless. My dog was panicked. I said to myself, “Maybe I’ve fallen back asleep, and I’m dreaming.” To try and reassure myself that I was not sleeping, I picked up my camera, went out on the fire escape, and took a few shots of this hole. When I heard another roar, I was assured. This was no dream. An airplane had crashed into the building next to the other burning building. Now, in the months that followed, I was being served more and more energy that I needed to get rid of (or exercise), whether it was the few thousand people I witnessed die or now my mother struggling with cancer.

I later reflected that maybe the cause of these two events — my mom dying of cancer and the attacks of 9/11 — was the result of the same thing. Perhaps someone could not find the right place or right way to exercise the energy in his or her system. For my mom, it became clear that she did not work out many emotional factors, and I feel it destroyed her on the inside. As for 9/11, I think many failed at working out their wars on the inside, and thus it destroyed others on the outside. Either way, someone did not feel there was a safe place in which to work out his or her love and pain.

There are countless ways to work out the energy we naturally cannot get rid of. The key is finding an “exercise” that is both beneficial and not detrimental to ourselves and others

Inventing “A” Wheel

In my efforts to get a better grasp on how I give, receive, and rest my energy, I began to understand the importance of awareness, adjustment, and acceptance. It soon became the three-spoke wheel that constantly turned inside of my head. The first spoke was being aware of the challenges I face, then turning to the next spoke of learning how to make adjustments, and then lastly rotating around to either accepting the outcome of my adjustments or starting the rotation in motion again. This three-spoke wheel sometimes rotated once, or it turned for years until I finally accepted where I was or wanted to be.

This wheel of the “A’s” usually turned the most when I faced “challenging energy.” For many of us, this “challenging energy” is when we are “working on a relationship.” Whether they are major or minor parts of our lives, our list of relationships goes on and on because we are always “working on a relationship.”

In the past six months, never more had the wheel of the “A’s” kept turning in my head. This was because, once again, I was “working on a relationship.” From the moment I awoke from brain surgery, the “relationship” I was to be working on was my “relationship with healing.”

Awareness

The first spoke on the wheel of the “A’s” is to be aware of what is happening and what is needed. But becoming aware takes more than just understanding the external elements. It also takes reflecting on what you might have learned from your past and what is at stake in the present.

As I laid in bed in the intensive care unit, I did my best to become aware of how I was eating, exercising, and sleeping. Eating was not happening, as I could not keep any food down. As for exercising, it was only (understandably) mental (if that’s possible). As for sleeping, even that was hard in the midst of tubes, wires, beeps, and constant monitoring. (Many times, it seemed to only be just me and this “button” for the nurse.) Yet I thought, “Maybe if I exercise my mind and get to a peaceful state, I could get some rejuvenating rest.” This was not as easy as it was in my past days of prayer and meditation. Here I was on all kinds of drugs to kill the pain. It seemed like the painkillers were making it to harder to use my mind. If I wanted to make an adjustment, I would have to deal with a little more pain in hopes of gaining more control over my mind.

With many of the relationships we might be “working on,” be it with ourselves or others, there will be times when we’ll be doing things that we “don’t like.” I think why many keep moving forward is that they’re able to see the bigger picture of “why” and what is at stake. Many times in my own past, I have avoided a lot of “why” questions that were squeaking from the first spoke on the wheel of the “A’s.” As a result, when the wheel turned to the next spoke of “adjustment,” I would lose my balance.

Adjustment

When I look at many great relationships, I see that people develop their stability in the early stages by being flexible and understanding boundaries. I find it is most important to be flexible in terms of our actions. Many times, we need to make adjustments within a fraction of a second. At these times, we have a choice to react or respond.

I responded by calling the nurse and asked for my pain medication to be decreased. It was not easy, and I had to be flexible, but later that night, I was able reach a peaceful state in my meditation, and the pain felt less like pain and more like healing.

There may have been times in the past when we needed to react. This often happens when there’s less time to communicate. I saw this in my days of being in and around hospitals and seeing professionals react within seconds. As for myself, I find that responding usually works better than reacting. I feel the main difference is responding gives you more flexibility. Thus, responding gives more space, and to be flexible, you need to have space to move. When communicating, you need the mental space more than anything; if not, you or someone else might feel stifled or imprisoned.

Lastly, this brings me to the other part of adjustment that has to do with boundaries. This is where it is important to first communicate with ourselves about becoming aware of our own personal boundaries. Then, we can communicate more clearly with any outside forms of energy. At this point, we have the power to communicate any ideas of adjustment. Flexibility and boundaries will change over time, but this is when the wheel of the “A’s” will turn toward the next spoke of acceptances, and we realize how much we will accept before we decide if and when a change is needed.

I realized that, over the past months, these adjustments and the choice to react or respond was not the only thing I was doing. It was what many nurses, doctors, friends, family, and sometimes strangers were all doing to help others, as well as myself. This is why I feel it is so important to truly understand the many adjustments we each make in our relationships.

Acceptance

Acceptance is the last spoke on the wheel of the “A’s.” Often, it feels like the first step towards truly overcoming the many challenges that come our way. The root of acceptance lies in our own understanding of accountability towards the questions, answers, and actions we face each day. But even though we might embrace our level of accountability, we are also faced with the choice of accepting the direction of the wheel of the “A’s” and where it has taken us.

The question now was, “What next shall I accept?” Well after I left the intensive care unit, I was off to a rehabilitation center to rebuild my brain and body.

It has now been over a month, and I have been released from the rehabilitation center. Doctors tell me that they have “only seen less then 1% recover from what I went through as well and as quick as [I] had.” Although this was reassuring, something told me my journey was far from over. As I was being discharged, I remember the physical therapist telling me, “Paul, just keep working on balance.”

I thought, “Balance… ha!” Isn’t that where my journey started in the first place, and isn’t it where so many of our journeys seem to end? I wonder why I keep striving towards balance and sometimes even seem obsessed with it. I think it is because balance allows me to accept things for what they really are, “the truth.”

Most recently, “the truth” is that I need to make a choice now that this “cancerous tumor” has been removed. Luckily, all of the scans, X-rays, and spinal fluid show no trace of cancer in my system. So, I could continue on with my life, hoping cancer doesn’t return, or I could choose to do radiation and/or chemotherapy and kill any cancer cells that might have gone undetected. If I choose the chemo or radiation, there is a long list of side effects that will most likely change the way I live my life. But there is also a long list of other things I need to accept in making my decision. I need to accept all of the facts and stats. I need to accept the countless opinions of doctors, professionals, family members, and friends. I also need to accept the little voice inside of me. Most of all, I think need to accept the “fear of change.” So many, including myself, fear change, but the truth is it will always be there, because “change” is what makes this world work.

If we do not accept the direction and the outcome of our adjustments, then the wheel of the “A’s” will keep turning until we put on the breaks. There is nothing wrong with rolling, though, as long as with the rotation, we see what is at stake before we move on.

Our mind is the hub. Our world is the rim. Our spokes connect the two. Each rotation can put us in the right direction.

Ultimately, getting to any destination on the wheel of the “A’s” can put us in the right position to develop a good sense of timing. Thus, we can know the right time to stop or go and when to accept the truth of any kind of relationship.

Timing

Timing can directly affect the performance and destiny of our own life, as well as the lives of the ones around us. One second can change the outcome of our lives for years. Something I have witnessed is that, when one’s motivation is pure and honest, timing will come naturally.

One of the first films I ever made was in Los Angeles, California. I was in school, and two days a week after class, I picked up a 10-year-old kid, Tony, from grade school. His mom contacted the school looking for someone to be a Big Brother to her son. Tony had no siblings, and his father was nowhere to be found. Tony and I would cruise around in my old (1974), beat up, lime green convertible VW Bug. I would occasionally verbalize a few of my life lessons, but usually, we were busy engaging in activities that helped him to confront obstacles, like dealing with a bully on the playground or not being able to perform a task he desperately wished he could do.

Once a week for about an hour, Tony had tap dance class. I would take him to a small, storefront school in San Pedro. While Tony was in class, I would wait outside. I would talk to some of the parents, but mostly, I talked to the people who managed the dance school. In our conversations, they mentioned their parents and how they started the school years back. They seemed so proud of their parents’ accomplishments. I became eager to meet these two talented, ambitious people who their children, as well as everyone else in the dance school, held in such high regard.

The next week, Tony and I arrived at the dance school, and while Tony was putting on his tap shoes, I peeked into the dance studio to see if class had started. What I could see as I peeked around the corner was one of the most graceful exchanges of love I had ever seen. Without any effort, these two seventy-five-year-olds eased each other into any dance movement to feel as one. I did not need any introduction. I knew that this was the couple that everyone in the school was talking about. This was Roslyn and Alva.

When my film professor gave me the assignment to make a documentary, I decided to feature this couple. To prepare, I visited their home and asked plenty of questions. I also talked to their friends and family. Then came the day we were to interview Roslyn and Alva on camera. I learned so much about this couple, from their history as immigrants to being backup dancers and stunt doubles for the famous Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers. They had also been accused of being communists and were blacklisted in Hollywood during the ‘50s. But the one lesson I learned that I will never forget is the importance of timing. I remember Alva telling me both on and off camera about how important it was to have good timing in dancing and in life. He would say, “I can know how to do all the greatest moves, but if I don’t have the right timing, I'm not a dancer. I’m just a guy who knows how to do all the great moves.”

As with most of my finished projects in film, photography, painting, writing, or whatever I set out to conquer, I judged my success on what I learned, in hopes that others might learn as well. I sometimes still hear Alva’s voice in the back of my head at all sorts of times. Sometimes, it’s when I’m dealing with family problems, or at other times, I’m just giving directions to a comedic actor. I’ll think, “You can know all the jokes in the world, but if you don't have a sense for timing, you are not a comedian. You are just a guy who knows all the jokes in the world.” The timing of shooting the film about Roslyn and Alva was ironic. I believe the same day I met them was the day I got word from home that my dad and mom were separating after 35 years of marriage. And there I was, on the opposite coast, witnessing a marriage still going strong for over fifty years. Timing, huh?

This is just one example of the importance of “when” we receive different forms of energy. In this case, the two forms of energy seemed to balance each other just when I needed it.

A good sense of timing starts with motivation and ends with patience. When it comes to patience, I agree with the phrase, “Good things take time.” But I must also add, “The best things are forever” (Freedom, Faith, and Love). If we are motivated by love for others as well as for ourselves, then we can achieve the best things in an honest way, which can last forever.

Balance

“The City that Never Sleeps”

New York has been called “the city that never sleeps.” This can be very true in the aspect of balance and how unbalanced the city can be at times. So many New Yorkers do not seem to know “when” or “how” to rest and replenish their cells. It just seems to be a place where people are constantly “eating” and “exercising” energy. But, when it comes to “sleeping” or truly resting energy, it’s put on the backburner and often receives very little attention.

The “old New York Paul” could do 20+ things minimum a day, yet it is the “New New York Paul” who is happy doing just one. It was such an adjustment after surgery and radiation, as I kept searching for the connection between my mind and body.

My MIND would say: “Sure, you can do that no problem.”

Then, after I did it, my BODY would say: “What the hell did you do? I need to rest and replenish my cells.”

Replenishing cells comes naturally to us, but the key is finding the right balance in doing so. I think this is why New York becomes a very transient city, because it is such a stimulating place that drains people’s batteries. Many have to run away to recharge. They have a hard time resting, just to rise early in the morning and run the same exact race every day that they never seem to finish. Why don’t they finish? Because there is always someone else ahead running faster, and many are constantly trying to catch up to and out run him or her. This, at least, is the perception. The one aspect that I work at daily (in hopes of keeping me sane, or so I think so) here in New York City is taking the time to ground myself, be it meditation, prayer, or honest reflection on how I will run my race. Often, I’ve realized that, if I set the pace and work at feeling my own rhythm, it will determine my sense of balance. Sure, there will be times when people will want me to run at their pace, but once I have given an honest effort, it is important for me to determine if this is a healthy pace for myself and if I will remain in balance. If not, then perhaps it may be time to make a few adjustments towards a change.

I find that many people become frustrated and disappointed by not being at the same pace of others, so they prematurely drop out of the race. The problem with this action is that many do not take the time to wind down and learn from their efforts, and they do not change before giving up. They just start the process all over, jump-starting the next morning by hopping on someone else’s train. They don’t take the time to figure out their own natural pace. In whichever environment we live, whether it is New York City or somewhere else, it is important to determine the balance and pace that works for your life, whether it is running a race in your job, social life, family, or your dream.

In life, there are various situations that can land on our scales. Some can be heavier than most, or at the very least, they appear heavier than others. This is when our “tool of vision” helps us to determine the accurate weight of the object that just landed on our scale, tipping our balance to either healthy or unhealthy. With the right determination, we can choose what needs to be placed on the other side of the scale to maintain balance or what might need to be taken off in efforts to set the right pace.

Pace

The power of your own pace can drastically change the pace of others around you, regardless of whether it is one person in a small room or a stadium of thousands. Even the smallest hand can hold the power to change the pace and lives of others for a second, a day, or a lifetime.

My daughter was at least six months old in the womb. A young, bright-smiling nurse rubbed the cold medical gel over her mommy's stomach and attached a few cords and wires. Beeps and bells began to chime at a steady pace. Suddenly, the consistent sounds stopped. I looked at the young nurse, and her bright smile was fading. Quickly, she began to shift and adjust the wires, prods, and pads, and she repeatedly checked the computer monitor. An occasional chirp or blip was heard, but nothing like before. I quickly grabbed Mommy's hand, sensing the level of fear that was building in this now claustrophobic examination room. The nurse bolted into the hallway and grabbed the first doctor she could find. The doctor entered with a fast yet controlled energy. She checked a few cables, hit a few switches on the monitor, and then detached everything. She turned to us and said, "We’re going to bring her into the other room." The nurse pulled a wheelchair out of the hallway, and the doctor wheeled Mommy down the hall with a uniquely calm urgency. I followed closely, as we rushed into the new room. More wires were hooked up, along with a thick cable with a sonogram camera attached to the end. All of sudden, the steady pace of beeps returned, and the doctor had a questioning look of calm. She ran the camera over Mommy’s stomach. All eyes were on the video monitor above. The black screen flickered. Soon, we were able to see our daughter floating around in the womb. Everything was normal. The doctor investigated a few things, paused, and then lifted the camera and began to try to explain what could have happened. All of a sudden, she was interrupted by silence. No beeps, no chimes. Fear refilled the room. The doctor grabbed the camera and moved it around to get an image of my daughter. Then we saw her. My daughter seemed to be effortlessly floating around, while all of us were trying to make out what was happening. The doctor explained that my daughter was grabbing her umbilical cord, stopping her heartbeat and the pace she was living at inside the womb. The doctor later explained that this type of occurrence happens from time to time and is actually a learning experience for the child. As time passes, the child realizes that, as long as she squeezes the umbilical cord, she cannot breathe. After the child tries a few more times, she will usually learn and stop. Here, my daughter was at negative three months old, in a situation where she could not control the environment she was living in, but she could drastically control her own pace.

Many times in life, it is no different than what happened to my daughter. We have very little or no control over the places we enter, whether it is to function within a small room or the country in which we live. But, as we develop clearer vision, we’re able to make adjustments, thus controlling our own pace. The more I personally recognized this, the stronger I was at determining what I can and cannot control outside of myself.

The environment of our mind is of the utmost priority to control, and beyond this, the rest can just follow along. Our mind can change in a fraction of a second, and so can all that follows, like the heart and kidneys that move and cleanse our blood, the digestive system we eat with, the tongue we speak with, and so on.

I soon gained more appreciation for the principle of non-attachment and a greater respect for my outside environments. I’ve felt this in the hospital rooms I’ve sat in, the streets I’ve walked down, the traffic I have waited in, the train cars I’ve ridden on, and the places I’ve written this book in.

Hence, awareness gave me the opportunity to gain control over my mental space, so I was able to set the right pace. It’s like having the right beat for the right song. If I’m on the wrong beat, the song is not going to sound so hot. This is the way my mind works. It has the power to set the pace so my soul vibrates at the correct level. With the right level, I can be in sync with the energy surrounding me, as if I were playing along flawlessly with the greatest jazz trio or even the biggest band.

Rhythm

Rhythm seems to be that inner vibration that lives in your soul. Truly feeling rhythm takes a level of relaxation, and although we can frequently control our pace, rhythm is a bit different.

One day, during one of my many jobs, I was plastering a ceiling. The guy doing construction beside me was sharing his musical dreams and aspirations. He desperately wanted to be a rock star. He told me he played with a band and was releasing a CD. After work, he was heading off to the recording studio. I asked him how he began playing music. He said, “When I was a little boy, my uncle’s friend gave me a drum lesson.” I responded, “Really? I’m taking trumpet lessons. I’m working on getting an understanding of playing with rhythm.” After we spoke about all the principles his uncle’s friend had taught him, Max’s conclusion arose — “You can’t play rhythm. You can only feel it.” Suddenly, I was interrupted by some plaster that fell on my face, so we went back to work. Later, I asked, “Who’s your uncle’s friend?” “He is a jazz drummer who lives in Brooklyn,” he said. I responded, “I’m living in Brooklyn, and I follow jazz. What is his name?” “His name is Max,” he said. I replied, “Max? Max who?” “Max Roach,” he said. “You heard of him?” That moment could not have been any better. My smile was so big, it cracked the now dried plaster on my face. To me and many others, Max Roach is one of the greatest jazz drummers ever, and now whenever I think about rhythm, I think about the late, great Max Roach saying: "You can’t play rhythm. You can only feel it."

Everyone has the power to feel rhythm naturally. Some use drugs and alcohol to get to the level of relaxation that reaches rhythm. The thing to note when one makes this choice is that it often alters the natural inner vibration. So, in exchange for this choice, we forfeit some control over our pace and, more importantly, our mind. This is in addition to introducing another need — the substance we chose to consume.

Regardless of how we choose to feel a sense of rhythm, we will still confront rhythm’s nemesis. Who is this “evil-doer” who dares to go up against the powers of rhythm? (Sorry for the superhero wording, but I cannot help it when I use the word “nemesis or “evil-doer.”) Rhythm’s nemesis is pressure. The more pressure in a situation, the less chance to feel rhythm.

Every time I leave my apartment and head to radiation, the pressure builds. As much as I try to control it, it still seems to start. I fight it on every trip. But over and over, I keep hearing this conversation between my mind and my body.

My BODY says: “I can’t take any more of this. Why are you doing this to me?”

My MIND responds: “Work with me here. This all makes sense. The X’s and O’s say this is what shall be done.”

My SPIRIT interrupts: “You two keep quiet, because I know how much we all love life, and what is happening now will hopefully give us each more days to live.”

Almost all pressure starts from the inside and is self-imposed. But what else do we possess inside ourselves that can repel this feeling of pressure that is constantly battling rhythm? We can have faith, courage, discipline, and a willingness to learn, so we can build a level of confidence and be able to trust a pace that is unfamiliar to us. If we can do this in any environment or situation, we will be able to just “feel the rhythm.”

Discipline

There have been quite a few times in my life when I thought I was at the correct pace, but I still felt out of rhythm. I soon realized that there was something lying beneath the pressures I faced, and often, it was my self-created fear of discipline. As adults, we are ultimately responsible for our own self-discipline. When I was a child, it was a challenge to value how the addition of discipline could change my life. My parents were pretty wiped out from raising and instilling discipline in the first four kids before me. Although they did their best, they often had little time or energy to instill a strong foundation of discipline in me. Maybe this is why I ended up making some mistakes in my life. I learned from them, but in time, I also learned the ever-so-important value of discipline.

When I was about six years old, I was taken out of class one afternoon. I sat down at a round, wooden table in a small room, across from a woman who began to show me all sorts of abstract images, cubes with patterns, and a series of other tests. I was asked my thoughts on them and what I perceived from the images. At the time, I did not know the reason I was even in this room, but further testing occurred for the next twelve years of my life. Along the way, I was told that I thought in a different way than the other kids and that I had a learning disability, dyslexia. The list goes on and on of all the different feedback and conclusions I was given. I just saw myself struggling more and more as each year passed. I squeezed by academically from grade to grade, trying to avoid being placed in “special ed.” I saw most of my friends move on to the next grades effortlessly, while I was fearful of being left back. Later, I managed to graduate high school, and somehow, I squeezed into college. But after the first few months, I was intimidated by my dyslexia and dropped out. I then decided to give my street smarts a try, which worked on a financial level, but morally and spiritually, I fell flat on my face. Yet, with some faith, I fortunately freed myself from my fears.

Today, I wonder if I was being motivated by fear, the fear of not being left back or not being with my friends, to whom I had grown attached. Perhaps later it was the fear of going to jail. Being faced with fear and attachment issues can cause difficulties in finding a sense of self-discipline. Self-discipline and non-attachment is what I lacked and desperately needed as I faced my mental challenges and my development toward being honest with myself and my troublesome situation.

Later in life, as I gained an understanding of discipline, I became more receptive to the motivating words I often heard or read. For example, I heard things like, “I can choose to be the first one in the gym and the last one to leave.” There were also similar quotes while in training for basketball teams. It was not only the accomplishments that resulted from self-discipline that stimulated me, but being able to create a plan and enjoying the efforts of the process. I saw that, if I can create my own discipline, I can create my own destiny. With the power to change my destiny, I could change my present reality.

Many have the idea that discipline will bring suffering rather than happiness. Most fundamental thoughts of discipline usually root back to childhood, often from being told or scorned to do something of which we had no desire. “Clean your room!” “Do your homework!” “You’re late! Give me twenty push-ups!” and so on. The joy in discipline is overlooked because finding joy in the early ages of our life was usually associated with a kind of “currency” we only received for performing these tasks. The “currency” might have been receiving a “dessert” or “being able play with friends.” As adults, our intellect and reason have developed more; therefore, our relationship with discipline is more clear and understandable.

But this clarity can only happen if we are able to use our “tool of vision” in the best way possible. If we can respect the power and accuracy of our vision, we as adults will have an easier time accepting self-discipline. We have the power to manifest the realities of our currencies of choice. Many adults do not want to face this fact and only accept what they are given as their realities. The truth is that they asked for whatever “currency” they possess. For example, it could be a new car or picking up your kid from school each day.

The healthier we are with our mental discipline, the more joy we find in our efforts in route to receiving the “currency.” But will this “currency” only fulfill our own needs or the needs of the universe? When it comes to defining “wealth” or “currency,” most look at the amount of a dollar. But if we were to broaden our perspectives of currency, perhaps more would feel as if we are “wealthy.” As a result, we might be less fearful of losing a portion of a particular currency, understanding the possibility of gaining more of another. For example, we may lose a couple of bucks or a few hours of work in exchange for the energy we feel when we pick up our children from school.

Energy

Suppose the inside of your body is a farm. On your farm, you grow corn, water the crop, keep it clean, take good care of it, and make sure your corn has a wonderful taste. When the corn is ready to eat, you pick the stalk. You cannot eat all of the corn yourself, so you decide to give a few ears away. You give it away to friends, family, and people you do not even know. Now these other people have your corn. Some find the perfect size pot to boil the water, cook it up, butter it, put salt on it, and handle each end with care to ensure that they do not miss one kernel. They take a bite and are beaming with pleasure. To them, this is the best-tasting corn they have ever had. When they finish, they tell you all about how delicious it was. Others take the corn and do not know what to do with it, so they throw it out, while still others will take the corn but do not feel like eating it. They store it in the freezer to save for another day. Some take the corn and use it to make other dishes like cornbread, corn tortillas, or corn soup to share with other people. You have a choice to be emotionally affected by people’s opinions of the corn itself or by what they choose to do with your gift of corn. But the truth is that, if you had never taken the corn off the stalk and given it away, the crop would have died in the field, thus keeping the next crop from being healthy or growing at all. No matter what people decide to do with your corn, others are needed in order for your crop to continue to grow.

What is this corn? Corn can be a number of things. In my life, corn is love and energy. Most of the positive changes in my life started with having faith and understanding energy. This is why I feel that it is so important to put in an effort towards making accurate assessments of our surrounding energy. There are two forms of energy, material and non-material. I am no scientist, but I will give you my theory. Material energy contains matter of a tangible nature and can be touched. For example, we can touch a cup of tea, a computer, a DVD disc, a church building, a person, a book, and so on. Non-material energy does not contain matter. It’s intangible and cannot be touched. The significance of this energy comes from what is “given off,” which is usually a feeling. For instance, this would include our feelings after drinking a cup of hot tea or what we might feel as we view images on a computer, as well as the mood of a theater after watching a film, the passion felt by the choir in a church, the love felt when sitting beside a loved one, or maybe even your thoughts as you turn each page of this book. Whether it is material or non-material energy, the most valuable lesson I have learned is to be unattached to its infinite feelings.